Magically Maniacal
by Oldach's Dream
Summary: From the crazy author who brought you 'Of Chickens and Aztecs' and 'Final Destination.' The Winchester brothers and their unique, sleep deprived and debatably logical discussions while cruising along in the Impala.


_By: Oldach's Dream_

_Summary: From the crazy author who brought you 'Of Chickens and Aztecs' and 'Final Destination.' The Winchester brothers and their unique, sleep deprived and debatably logical discussions while cruising along in the Impala._

_Disclaimer: Unless I seduce Eric Kripke and get him to sign them over…they still aren't mine._

_A/N: Hey, everybody! I found yet another story that I didn't know I had, stored on my computer. Reading the stories mentioned in the summary is in no way essential for understanding this one- but if you like this one, I'd suggest skimming the other two. And don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think! Now, read onward!_

Magically Maniacal

"Hey, Sammy?"

The younger Winchester cringed outwardly – he knew that voice.

"Yeah, Dean?" But it was pointless; the easy-going tone of his voice was so obviously fake that Sam wondered how his brother managed to hold back the wicked grin that was inevitably attempting to take over his features.

This was Sam's big brother at his finest. This was Dean, low on sleep, jacked up on caffeine and completely incapable of not vocalizing whatever random thought was circling around his mind.

"You know what really bugs me?" He straightened his arm on the steering wheel of the Impala and glanced to the passenger's seat briefly. "Like, seriously just grates on my nerves to no end?"

"Driving for fifteen hours without stopping?" Sam cited his own current grievances. "Having your ass go numb because your brother won't stop at a motel for the night? Having your brother refuse to even pull over to the side of the road to switch seats so you can drive because he's been up for two days and you think there's a legitimate possibility that he might fall asleep at the wheel and swerve off a cliff?"

"Come on, Sammy," Dean exaggeratedly protested his brother's fake-happy tone. "Why would you wanna stop now? It's the middle of the day."

Sam widened his eyes before rolling them. "It's four-thirty in the morning. And the only reason we're still on the road is because you never stopped."

"Okay, fine," Dean huffed. "Good point. But that's not what I was gonna say."

Sam was silent.

"I was gonna say," Dean went on anyway. "Those annoying little brats."

Sam had been prepared for almost any words that might have left his brother's mouth, God knows he'd heard some weird conversation starters in the past – but this one just took the cake in utterly confusing. His reaction couldn't be helped. "Huh?"

"Those bratty kids," Dean clarified. "From that commercial."

Sam – the Winchester brother most up to date on late night TV watching – scanned his mind for even the smallest inkling of clues as to what his big brother was babbling about.

He came up blank.

"What commercial?" He asked, honestly irritated that he couldn't place it immediately. No one was denying that, he too, was incredibly short on sleep. Possibly even more so than the elder hunter – Dean just had more of a tendency to go off on random tangents when sleep deprived.

"You know," he gestured wildly, almost drunkenly, with one arm. "That commercial. Where the kids'll never share their cereal with the Elf."

Sam scrunched up his entire face – deep thoughts over-riding his obnoxiously large brain. "Dude," he concluded after a few minutes. "You mean the rabbit?"

"What rabbit?" Dean seemed distracted, as if he had stopped thinking about the entire issue.

"The rabbit that could never get the cereal away from the kids." Sam stated obviously. "Ah…" he waved his own hand, placing the other near his temple, trying to remember, "Silly rabbit…Lu-Trix. Trix are for kids!"

"No," Dean said slowly. "The Elf. The Elf made the cereal."

"No," Sam mocked his tone deliberately. "The Elf makes snacks or something – the rabbit is the cereal."

"The rabbit is cereal?" And Sam couldn't tell if Dean was making fun of him, or was just confused. "Like the cereal is shaped like the rabbit?"

"No-"

"'Cause of that was it, why wouldn't he be allowed to have any?" Dean was without doubt making fun of him.

"'Cause the kids are bratty." Sam repeated his brother's words, sinking to his level of thought, knowing now that there would be no easy way out.

"But it's his cereal." Dean argued.

"No, it's the Elf's snacks." He recalled the commercial – it took place in the truck of a tree if he remembered correctly. "The Elf makes the snacks; the rabbit just wants the cereal."

"He didn't make the cereal?" Dean seemed genuinely curious.

"No." Sam shook his head. "He just wanted it."

"Then why didn't he just go buy some?"

Sam paused for an undetermined amount of time. "Whoa…" he breathed. "Deep."

"See." Dean gloated. "Told ya you were wrong."

"No," Sam shook his head, ignoring the waves of dizziness. "I'm not wrong – the rabbit's just stupid."

"He should team up with the elf." Dean decided.

"Why?" Sam wondered briefly if elves really existed. And if they did, were they good or evil? Could the Winchesters hunt one down? Maybe just to find out...

"'Cause then they could overpower the brats." And it seemed as though his brother had segued entirely from mocking him to indulging himself. "And get the cereal."

"The elf has his own line of snack foods." Sam pointed out - much to his horror - entirely rationally. "He doesn't need cereal."

"Man cannot live on snack food alone." Dean sent him a sidelong glance.

"No," Sam snorted. "But maybe elves can."

"Dude..." the elder man all but slurred. "That makes no sense."

"Yeah, and we're just filled with brilliance tonight."

"Besides," Dean moved on as if he hadn't heard him, "That still doesn't take care of the bratty kids problem."

"Then what would?" Sam asked with an eye roll.

He paused thoughtfully for a moment before speaking casually, "Going back in time and making their parents use birth control?"

The younger brother laughed out loud. "Maybe." He agreed after a moment of chuckling, "But that doesn't help Mr. Rabbit fulfill his cereal swiping scheme."

Dean glowered for a moment, before perking considerably. "Dude," he began again, "We'll get him some."

Sam blinked once. Twice. "Say what?"

"Yeah," Dean seemed overconfident in this new plan of his. "It'll be like...our good deed of the year, or something."

"We save people's lives weekly," Sam had no idea why he was latching onto that part of his brother's statement. "That's not enough?"

"This would be like...unsanctioned...ah...unprompted...karmic..." Dean tilted his head to one side and made an annoyed face.

Sam smirked. "Rabbit's not real, dude."

Dean grunted, annoyed. "You don't know that."

"He's a cartoon." Sam said logically. "If he's real then so is...Scooby Doo, Superman, Bugs Bunny, the Road Runner, Captain Underpants-"

"Captain Underpants was a comic book, geek." Dean interrupted.

Sam sighed. "Rabbit's still not real."

"Yeah, well...then he's a hell of a bad marketing tool." Dean was obviously - in the sense of self-preservation - trying hold onto any logical arguments that he might have left.

"Too true." Sam nodded, and a brief flash of an idea appeared in his mind. And while he was too tired for the duteous task of planning -this wasn't too complicated.

"Dean," the younger man began after a moment.

"What?"

"I want Trix." His voice came out exactly as he'd wanted it to - annoyingly petulant.

"Sammy..." The elder brother groaned. Sam knew that groan and he held back a grin.

"C'mon," he all but pleaded. "There's a Walgreen's off the next exit," which there just happened to be. "You can run in, get me some a box of Trix and some Red Bull or something while you're at it."

"Monster." Dean grunted, and in that moment, because he and his brother were truly on the same wave length, he knew the older man wasn't referring to the big ugly things the Winchesters fought.

"Balls." Sam bit back, and grinned when Dean rolled his eyes.

"Whatever," he sighed, and maneuvered his way into the right lane and off the exit ramp.

Approximately twenty minutes later Sam's wide grin was lighting up the parking lot of the Walgreen's and Dean's scowl was so deep that the younger man wouldn't be surprised if it was single-handedly dampening the sun's first meek rays of light.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean poked his head through the driver's side window and tossed the plastic bag in the back seat.

"Driving." Sam said in an infuriating rational voice that he knew his brother hated. "We're getting a motel room and we're sleeping."

"You tricked me." Dean scowled deeper still.

"Silly, brother. Driving is for the non-sleep deprived." Sam mocked their earlier conversation and received a flick to the side of the head for his efforts.

"You're nowhere near as pithy as the commercial."

The younger man rubbed the side of his head and glared. "Just get in the car or I'm driving away without you."

"It's my car!" Deal all but shouted.

"But I have the keys," Sam slapped his brother's hand when it made its expected dart towards the ignition. "And you know what they say. Finders keepers."

Dean flicked him again, but obediently moved towards the passenger side of his beloved car and got in. Sam figured it was only love for the Impala that kept him from slamming the door obnoxiously hard behind him.

"I was right about something," Dean grumbled as he reached for his seatbelt and Sam revved the engine.

"Yeah? What's that?"

"All you annoying little brats really do bug me."

FIN.

_A/N: So…I don't own Trix, the Keebler Elf, any of their marketing tools, Red Bull, Monster or Balls (Which are all REALLY good energy drinks.) Or Walgreen's, or anything else I may have mentioned in this. Review, please? _


End file.
